I laid her to the floor and stood up.
Agony and rage and hatred rushed through my body like a fever taking over me. I wasn’t Scott Tyler any more. I was revenge incarnate. I was a focused ball of pure hate. It wasn’t even a thought. It was rawer than that. Primal. Like an energy flowing through my very bones. A single, overpowering drive to destroy.
The rage pushed out all other thoughts, unlocking something in me.
I focused first on Prestige, who was still standing with his arm outstretched, gun in hand. Ella was begging with him to put it down.
“Die!” I roared at him. And watched with nothing but delight as he turned the gun and pointed it at his own head.
There was a second bang and Prestige fell to the floor. Ella screeched and held her hands up to her blood-splattered face. She turned to look at me, horror and hatred pulling her lips up into a snarl.
“Go home,” I said. And she was gone. I looked in turn to each of Frankie’s children. Kushi, Pia and the twins. With a thought each of them vanished. But Frankie was still there.
The calm, relaxed expression was gone and she was looking panicked as I took another step forward. “So, you can Shift again? Good. Well, just Shift and save your little girlfriend. And none of this needs to have happened,” she said.
“I’m not going to change anything,” I said, the words escaping between my clenched teeth like gas.
Frankie’s eyes tightened in suspicion.
“You are,” I said.
I started to run, heading straight for her. And with every pounding step, things became clearer. Clearer than they had been for days.
She’d only been able to control me because I was weak. Because I wanted to be told what to do. But not anymore. I was the one in control now. And she was going to bend to my will.
Everything moved in slow speed. I saw every object in the room in crystal-sharp focus. Brighter colour. Sharper detail. The faces of the crowd, caught in horror and shock, unable to move out of fear or morbid curiosity. The food, on the buffet table, left abandoned and already going dry. Zac and Rosalie, my friends, who were both bent over Aubrey’s body, sobbing.
I had Sir Richard’s gun in my hand. I must have taken it from Aubrey. It felt cold and surprisingly heavy. I raised it, and Frankie flinched, lifting both hands, not in surrender, but as if trying to calm a spooked animal. I couldn’t be calmed.
I pulled the trigger three times. Three sharp bangs.
The golden window behind Frankie’s head shattered into a spider’s web of cracks. I threw the gun down, scooped up a small stool and hurled it straight ahead of me. Frankie ducked as the stool flew over her head and through the window behind. The wind sucked it and the splinters of glass out into the black night.
She uncovered her head and started to get to her feet, to run or to fight, it didn’t matter. I put on an extra burst of speed and tackled her, picking her up and carrying us both towards the open window.
She stretched out her arms and managed to cling onto the metal frame with her nails, pinning us both in place like flies trapped in a web. She twisted her head around to look behind her at the golden glass sloping away to the ground five hundred feet below. Then she looked back to me and smiled, realising even if I pushed her out she’d be safe. The angle of the Pyramid meant we would slide all the way to the ground.
Words and images came back to me, crystal sharp.
“Not the original plan.”
I returned her smile and heaved us both out through the open window.
We flew through the air for a moment before crashing onto the sloping glass. It cracked beneath the combined weight of our bodies and then we began to skid downwards on the glass slick with rain.
“You’re crazy!” Frankie shouted, almost laughing as we spun in circles, sliding ever downward.
But I wasn’t. I was totally in control.
The last time I’d felt this kind of power I’d been able to make people do what I wanted. Helped them make the decision I wanted them to make. But that was just the beginning of what I knew I was capable of doing. Abbott had been right. Sir Richard had been right. Even Benjo had known more than me. Changing your own decisions is only the beginning. With the right focus you could change the decisions of anyone you wanted.
Like starlight bending around a planet. Like an architect’s plans.
I closed my eyes and roared, pushing all my rage and loss into the single thought. I imagined the Shard as it had been, jutting out of the ground to puncture the sky. I saw it rising above the city like a blade of glass.
When I opened my eyes again, I had Frankie in my arms and we were freefalling through the air, dark glass walls whipping past my eyes. With the slightest effort the golden Pyramid was gone and the Shard was there once more. We were falling one thousand feet.
Frankie’s screeching blended with the roar of the wind against my ears. “We’re going to die!”
“Just you,” I said so softly into her ear as if I was whispering a secret.
Her eyes widened as she realised what I was asking her. No, forcing her to do. I was making her unravel her life, stitch by stitch, starting with coming to the party and going all the way back to her decisions to start Pandora. Every move she’d made in her great political game to save the world, I was forcing her to take back. Every life she’d toyed with, every politician and CEO she’d caught in her web, would be free to make their own choices without her interference. It was either undo every choice in her life from entering the Ganymede project or die within in the next few seconds.
The cars and street below were growing clearer, ever closer. We were just feet away from the concrete when I heard her let out a broken sob.
And the world flipped.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Consciousness came slowly. Fragments of images flashing before my eyes punctuated by a pounding blackness.
Aubrey laughing
. Darkness.
Aubrey dead
. Darkness.
My sister crying
. Darkness.
Frankie falling
.
Me falling
. Darkness again.
I inhaled a wet breath through my aching lungs and it felt like my very first gasp of air. The air smelt damp and musky, like concrete after the rain.
I dared to open my eyes and saw a lump of flattened chewing gum an inch from my face. OK, so I knew this much; I was lying face down on a pavement, my head pressed against my right hand. I moved a finger and waited for the pain. It was inevitable. You didn’t fall one thousand feet without incurring some kind of injury. I imagined shattered shinbones, ruptured organs, broken spine. Only there was no pain. My hand was covered in dirt and small cuts, but otherwise, just fine. I moved my focus down my body, checking each limb in turn. Arms. Check. Chest. Check. Legs. Check. Everything was still where it was supposed to be and miraculously unhurt. I rolled over onto my back and looked up into a black sky.
I was alive. And judging by the silhouetted skyline I could see peeking over the wall next to me, I was still in London.
I peeled myself up off the pavement, sat up and looked around. I was in an alley, which was covered in a graffiti mural showing London on fire.
“That was a close one, sir,” a familiar voice said from behind me. I twisted my aching body to see Zac striding toward me with three figures behind him. Regulators, judging by their black jumpsuits and visored helmets. I guess Morgan had called them in after all.
“You can say that again,” I said, trying to get to my feet. My head spun again and I slumped back on the ground.
Zac held out his hand to help me up and reluctantly I took it. I hadn’t seen the guy in months and now twice he’d been the one to find me while on my arse.
“That Shift registered a sixteen on the Lawrence scale,” one of the Regulators said, making an impressed sucking sound. I couldn’t place his voice so maybe he was one of the civilian recruits. His uniform was different to most Regulators; he was wearing light body armour and there was a string of tools hanging around his waist. I looked to the other two standing next to him. They too were in the same tricked-out gear.
“What are you on about?” I asked finally, rubbing my palm against my pounding temple.
“Your Shift, sir. It was the strongest we’ve ever seen.”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’?” I asked, irritated. This was hardly the time to be taking the piss.
“Er, should I call you commandant?” he asked.
I blinked, trying to clear the glittering spots of light from in from in front of my eyes.
“Zac, what’s going on?” I turned to Zac again and realised he was wearing the same uniform as the others. The black jump suit and body armour with ARES written in white type across the chest and three golden stripes on the arm. He was holding a helmet in his hand. Why wasn’t he still wearing his tux? How long had I been unconscious for?
“Is that a Taser?” I said, pointing at the yellow gun on his belt.
He raised his arm and looked at it. “Sure, standard issue, sir.”
“Stop calling me ‘sir’!”
I ran my hand through my hair, expecting to find my shabby curls and found only stubble. My hair was cropped in a close shave. I looked down at what I was wearing and realised it was similar gear to Zac and the others. Only whereas they had three gold stripes, I had five.
I spun around, worried now, trying to work out what was going on and where I was really. I started to run down the alleyway, ignoring Zac’s protests and the confused gestures of the three Regulators. I needed to get out of here. The walls were pressing down on me, crushing me. I burst out onto the street and saw I was just feet away from the Thames. Only something was wrong. There were no lights along the Embankment. No boats moving their way up and down.
I ran up a set of stairs and onto what I knew was Tower Bridge. Only when I looked ahead to where St Paul’s Cathedral should be, there stood something that looked like a broken egg.
“What… what happened?” I said, pointing at the shell of the cathedral.
“It was hit in the first strike, sir,” Zac said, catching up with me. “Look, I think we should get back to HQ. You might be having a reality attack. Not surprising given the force of your last Shift, sir.”
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I shouted, spinning around in circles trying to make sense of everything. When I finally came to a stop I was facing the river again. As well as the wreck of St Paul’s I saw the shells of other buildings, crushed and crumbling.
A loud, clear gong rang out. Big Ben declaiming the time. I turned to my right, grateful that something hadn’t changed, and reeled. Vomit rose into my mouth and I doubled over, choking. The Houses of Parliament were gone. In its place was a black crater.
“Big Ben…” I managed to say, once I’d stopped being sick. “Big Ben.”
“They broadcast the gongs,” Zac said, looking up into the sky. “It’s supposed to give a sense of continuity. But sir, we really need to get you back to base.” He placed a gloved hand on my back and tried to get me to stand up.
“Back? No, I don’t want to go back. I need to…” I struggled to remember what it was that I needed to do. And then it came to me, clearer than the gongs ringing across London.
“Aubrey! I need to find Aubrey,” I shouted.
Frankie had Shifted as I’d forced her to. She’d undone her decision to ever start Pandora. Which meant none of the children would have ever been used. None of those people manipulated and robbed of their loved ones. And Aubrey would still be alive. I just had to find her.
“Do you mean Captain Jones?” Zac said, stepping away from me, looking worried now.
“Yes, Jones. Aubrey Jones. Stop messing about.”
“She’s right here, sir.” Zac stepped aside.
The three people I assumed were Regulators had joined us on the empty bridge. One of them pulled off their helmet revealing a shock of messy blonde hair.
“Aubrey,” I said, my heart swelling.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, and I saw she wore a black eye patch over one eye.
“Um, yes, Captain Jones, Sir. Reporting for duty.” She executed a sharp salute. “I’m glad to finally meet the legendary Commandant Tyler,” she said and there was absolutely no irony in her voice.
“Meet?” I said, struggling to speak at all.
“I’ve been transferred to the London branch after Brighton got wiped out in the last attack. I, er, I thought you’d got my paperwork?”
“Attack? What attack? Aubrey, what are you on about? What is everyone on about?”
“War, sir,” Aubrey said. “The country is at war.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First off, thanks to my husband, Chris, who put up with more than his fair share of crazy during the writing of this book. You never need to read it again now!
Never-ending gratitude to my early readers: James Smythe, Victoria Morely, Regan Warner, Sandie & Sam Dent, Adam Christopher and Lou Morgan. Without you this book would be decidedly more shoddy.
Much love to my band of cheerleaders: Tanya Byrne, James Dawson, Gwenda Bond, Miranda Dickinson and Katie Marsh who supplied me with endless support, wisdom and cups of tea.
But most of all, to everyone who read Shift – bought it, wrote about it, tweeted, blogged or reviewed it – a colossal thank you. I hope you like Control as much.
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Strange Chemistry #13
A Strange Chemistry paperback original 2013